"Hello, Professor. I'm here," you announce entering the villa as you always do.
A shiver runs through you closing the door on the spring and becoming engulfed by the cold, dark interior. You're in your favorite jean short-shorts and tank top so the sun could start working back the color lost over the winter. It feels good on your bare arms and midriff, but you opted for sneakers rather than sandals, mainly because you need a pedicure. That's where you'll head after dropping off your post-grad project proposal for him to approve. Finally, a study trip abroad.
"In the library. Come meet my guest."
Guest? You almost stop before turning up the hallway. The old geezer so rarely has visitors, let alone friends, that it's always a shock.
Light streams into the hall through the double library doors. Inside the bay of windows and French doors lead into the unkempt, and mostly dead, side yard. However, it is one of the brighter rooms even if it feels creepy with the Professor's eclectic collection of statues, taxidermy, and two grandfather clocks ticking out of sync. You're used to it but avoid it after dark like a vampire den.
"Ah, here is my lovely, and ever so capable, assistant," the portly professor proclaims to a young man who's back is to you. His silhouette portrays a lanky, yet quite well built man in a long-sleeve sport shirt and slacks sitting nicely across a well formed behind. He's just under six feet by comparison to the short old codger. Your natural flirt puts on your best smile though you know that isn't where he'll be looking when he turns.
"Lucy Vredenburg, I'd like you to meet ..."
He pauses for the man to turn. As his profile appears, you scan up from his dark loafers, across his prize possessions and past a bit of hair peeking from his unbuttoned collar to the blond hair glowing from the light behind. Your heart almost stops, but you don't flinch. You've too many years controlling expressions to manipulate people for that to happen, even at this shock. You just hope he can't hear your now pounding heart.
"... Mr. William Prescott."
* * * *
"I'm heading to England for a few months work after I get information from Professor Blackwell. A couple weeks to visit family and friends, though most are still at school, so I'll probably miss them."
His smile is so much more smooth and confident than when you last were with him - no longer the scrawny, disheveled teenager trying to discover himself. His attitude is positive and assured. He's matured nicely, but you keep all this to yourself. However, your, as well as Lucy's, attraction and flirting you don't.
It's a trendy cafe in the new shopping center on the outskirts of Acheson, now grown into the countryside in two years. Blackwell's villa is almost in suburbia, but the land along Farm Road and river was made a conservation district, and remains make-out lane. His place still backs onto that deserted lane you found when you became Lucy, a mile from Keyserling allowing a casual walk between there and the sorority.
Will asked to buy you coffee without your trying, even before he and Blackwell sat down. In fact, they wanted you to stay and hear why he's here. Suspicious at first he might know the truth, you relaxed when told it was Blackwell who had spoken so well of you and pawned off working with Will as he would to any student.
Will's training had gotten him involved in computers and robotic controls for "creatures and contraptions" often that moved about for use in movies, TV, and exhibits. For the effort in England, he needs historical research. The current client is a stickler for accuracy, and Professor Blackwell's collection is well known for its more unique assets. Plus the opportunity to visit home was a perfect match.
"Such a short time and so much information. I guess we will need to be together a lot to get it all in," you press.
Will blushes as he plays with his glass a few moments. "You know, back when I was a sophomore at Westside, I had a big crush on you."
"Really?" you feign with mock innocence. You and every other male in the school, you think and take a sip of your coffee making sure to puff your lips. However, he doesn't look up.
"You were quite visible, ... as head cheerleader." The latter comes out as introspection. Then he drinks, looking off.
"So, since I can't recall you ever approaching me, which cheerleader did a handsome boy like you end up with?"
He almost spits trying not to choke before chuckling. "Me? With a cheerleader? Handsome? Hardly. No. I was pretty much a nerd relegated to avoiding the bullies, jocks, and AP types. Invisible to all the popular, attractive girls."
You know he's lying because of your past, but it would be too much to expect he'd even hint at something to Lucy, but you don't give up on gentle prodding.
"And yet, here you are captivating me now," you flirt. "I bet the cheerleaders would be disappointed had they known how well you would turn out."
Will still has the most delightful smile, and you've seen lots. Well, Lucy has both before and after you took over. She's not a slut - too particular, but she has always enjoyed a good romp with a good looking man although never settling onto just one. There were a couple at Keyserling that came close to serious - rich and athletic, but they were hollow. You didn't want to just be an ornament and possession. None ever cared or wanted to help, especially when you had problems, and Lucy managed some stressful events. When that happened, they always had other things to do and would abandon you.
Will didn't do that at Westside. Even when he gave it all away to the Durass boys, it was to help. But you were so scared that you fled. That fear has long since faded, although you're still apprehensive to tell him who you really are, but his presence rings up thoughts of what might have been.
* * * *
"This has been the best weeks of my life," Will whispers in your ear with a little nibble while he spoons behind you after a most delicious encounter.
It really has been a most wonderful ten days. After all the flirting that first day, you settled into the task of gathering the information and keeping up with your regular life finishing classes. It was a week before you two glanced across the desks pushed together in Blackwell's library while working over some dusty, weathered tomes on strange happenings in thirteenth century England.
When your eyes met, you dove at each other and made love right there scattering books and papers as you writhed in passion. It was a good thing Blackwell was out of town at a conference, but you doubt that would have stopped the intense attraction and lustful act. At least you were more discrete the past five days while your affection and relationship grew.
But it is what Will is researching that peaks your interest. It is all around one central theme that became very clear shortly after that tryst: a town involving stories of people who disappeared while others suddenly changed attitudes and, seemingly, personalities as they gained power. However, they were pursued by some foreign church investigators or "rogue magicians" depending on the author's perspective. It all ended in a blaze of fire at one grand manor leaving several dead, one missing, and no trace of the "devilish and mystical" artifacts the perpetrators supposedly had and used.
Obviously, he is looking for information regarding the Libra Personae. Each reference of fantastical happenings relate to people being possessed, unexplained duplicates, even hinting at shapeshifters, and always at the fundamental core behind this continual battle of good and evil going back and finally lost in ancient times was possession of a mysterious book that is never seen, at least by the authors who documented these tales.
You turn and sigh happily before purring in jest, "Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls before you run away to a foreign land and leave them to pine after you."
"I'm sorry. Really, I don't mean it that way. It's just that we've connected so well for knowing each other such a short time. I wish I could stay, but ..." He trails off.
There's thunder again in your chest, and you wonder if you should tell him. In three days, he'll be gone. If he's still that compassionate Will, which you believe he is, he'll understand. But why is he researching the Libra especially since he was so adamant about getting rid of it over two years ago? Maybe you could give it to him, have it surface somehow. But how could you do that without revealing yourself. Maybe you should?
You had Blackwell hide it and not tell you where as well forbid him to ever tell or use it. Will's curiosity is bound to press Blackwell for how he got it from Chelsea, and that might bring back those Durass brothers to do who knows what.
If you did confess would Will want you go back to your real body wherever she is now and fill that life; put Lucy back as a golem and let her have this life and what you've become? Letting Professor Blackwell loose would be releasing a black magician. You've actually made him a better person just as you've become one.
You hold him close, squeezing eyes shut in thought. Go with him. You'd miss graduation but have the whole summer before graduate school. You don't have to go to school even, and Blackwell will give you an excellent reference for any job. Just continue to pretend. Would it be so bad to live the life of Lucy – to live the lie of being Lucy?
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author